Coffee Provides Resuscitation
by sunnywinterclouds
Summary: AU. The new guy behind the counter tells a lot of bad jokes. Annabeth can't bring herself to mind too much. Warning: puns.


The first thing I noticed as I strode through the doorway and made that little bell at the top of it chime was that there was a new worker behind the counter.

For two years, I'd been going to _Camp Café,_ the struggling coffee shop on my block. For two years, I'd arrived at 7:30 on the dot and ordered a medium black with two sugars and drank it as I walked towards my college campus. For two years, a girl with black hair and a nametag that read _Thalia_ had served me this coffee.

So who the hell was _this guy?_

"Hello," he greeted me, with far too much enthusiasm for 7:30 in the morning. I suspected he'd been smuggling caffeine from the back of the shop. "How can I help you?"

"Where's Thalia?" You might think I was rude for blatantly ignoring this poor innocent stranger, but I was having a bad week. The guy in the apartment above mine had brought home a stray cat – which was strictly against building rules, mind you – and the entire place was now infested with fleas, which had resulted in me having to stay with my younger brother, Malcolm, until the fumigation process was complete. A new coffee barista was a small, but _highly_ unwelcome additional disruption to my life. The icing on the cake of my terrible luck.

"She got moved to the night shift," the new guy said cheerily, apparently not at all fazed by my I-don't-care-about-you demeanor. "Something about her nose ring scaring off customers. No worries, though, I'm just as good. How can I help you?"

"You can help me find Thalia," I replied, irritated by his happiness. It might sound awful to be irritated by happiness, but whatever, I was.

The guy smiled even harder, as if my demand had been a joke. Which it hadn't. "I'll ask her what time her shift starts, but I'm pretty sure it's not till at least nine PM. Until then, can I take your order?"

"_Thalia_ takes my order," I grumbled, but gave it to him anyway. "Medium black, two sugars."

"Got it," he said, whipping a blue ballpoint pen out from behind his ear. I hadn't even seen it there, with all his messy black hair. "Name?"

I stared at him as he poised his pen on the edge of a medium paper cup. "What?"

"You know. So I can call it out when your order's done."

My fingers twitched. "Thalia never writes my name down."

"That's because Thalia's a terrible employee." He smiled at me – again – his green eyes crinkling around the corners. He was seriously cute, which I found pissed me off even more.

"I'm the only person here," I said, knowing I was wasting time but refusing to make yet another dent in my week. Thalia had been serving me for _years _and she'd never even found out my name, due to the fact that she didn't ask for it and I didn't give it.

"But… it's store policy." The guy's grin was slightly frozen now, like he'd never had anyone refuse him anything before. That didn't really surprise me.

"It's not necessary," I said, tapping my foot and glancing down at my watch. It was now 7:34, and my coffee hadn't even been started yet.

He gave me a weird look, like he was analyzing my insides, before shrugging and writing something down on my coffee cup that I couldn't see. "Black, two sugars, right?"

"Uh-huh." It was 7:36 when he finally handed me my coffee, and by that point, my stomach felt kind of uneasy. Due to the general uncrowdedness of _Camp Café _– which I attributed to their stupid name, as the coffee was delicious – I'd never spent more than five minutes in there before. Stupid new guy and his ritual-disturbing presence.

"Have a nice day," he said, and he looked like he honestly meant it. His smile was back full force as well.

"You, too," I replied absently, readjusting the shoulder strap of my backpack before turning to leave. Some people were _so _weird.

I was halfway to my macroeconomics class before I realized that the name on my coffee cup read 'grumpy-grumps.'

… … …

"Hey, there," the guy said the next morning. I didn't bother to hide my cringe.

"Hi… Perseus," I said, squinting at his nametag. Surely that was made up… wasn't it?

Apparently so, because he laughed. "It's Percy. Mr. D – the guy who owns this place – makes us put our full names on here so he won't forget them. But he does anyway." Cue smile.

"Right." And then, because I couldn't help it, "So your real name _is_ Perseus?"

He sighed. "Unfortunately, yes. But no one's actually called me that in forever. It's just Percy."

"Okay." I wasn't really in the mood for small talk, so I got straight to my order. "Medium black, two sugars."

Percy gave me an affronted look. "Oh, man, you're one of those boring people who orders the exact same thing every single day, aren't you?"

"Usually from the same person at the same place, too," I replied, irritated. Being routine was _not_ the same as being boring.

"At least that explains your irrational hatred of me." So he _had_ noticed. I probably should have felt bad, but…

I shrugged. "Are you going to be a permanent fixture here?"

Percy raised his eyebrows at me as he grabbed a medium cup from next to the cash register. "Sorry, but it took me _ages_ to get off the graveyard shift. I'm not going anywhere. Name?" He'd taken the pen out of his hair again. I wondered if he kept it there 24/7.

"I thought we discussed this yesterday."

"Boring-face it is," he said cheerfully. I slapped his hand away before he could write it down.

"Annabeth," I supplied. He grinned victoriously at me, and I felt my face contort into a scowl. I'd let this guy win, hadn't I? I hated letting other people win. "I could report you to your manager for unprofessionalism, you know."

"My manager loves me. He'd get a kick out of it." Of _course_ he would.

"Thanks," I said flatly when Percy gave me my coffee. I didn't mean to glance back as I exited the shop, but I did, and so I saw that he was waving and grinning wildly at me as I left. I scowled harder and did what I hoped was a dramatic hair flip as I strode away.

… … …

"Are you always so frowny?" Percy asked me, on my sixth day of putting up with him. "I mean, do you _ever_ smile?"

_Yes._ "No." The truth was, the sight of Percy's stupid grin every morning tended to make me scrunch my nose up like I'd smelled something bad.

"I bet you do." He gave me an appraising look. "I bet you even have a _nice_ smile."

"I guess you'll never know," I told him, tapping my fingers against the counter as I waited for him to actually start filling my order. He stared at me for a moment before getting a completely unattractive glint in his eyes. Like, _seriously_ unattractive. I mean it.

"We'll see," he said, grinning mischievously at me in a way that didn't make my stomach fluttery at all. I was relieved when he finally turned away to grind some coffee beans, except that it gave a decent view of his backside. I couldn't decide whether Percy was attractive despite being annoying or annoying because he was attractive.

"See you tomorrow," he called out as I left. I wished I had the nerve to switch to the Starbucks down the street.

… … …

I knew I was going to have a bad day the second I saw the _1001 Ways to Yuk 'Em Up_ joke book on the counter in front of Percy.

"Hello, there," he said, bouncing up and down with excitement. I had a horrible feeling that he'd been waiting for me since his shift started. "Would you like to hear a joke?"

"No." Oh, God, no.

"My ex-wife still misses me," Percy started anyway, after opening the joke book to a random page, "but _her aim is getting better!_" He slapped his knee – what the hell? – and started guffawing.

I stared at him. There were no words. Honestly.

"_Her aim is getting better!_" he repeated, wiping at his eyes. "You see… you see, it's funny because marriage is terrible."

"You're too young to be divorced," I deadpanned. I had never missed Thalia so much in my entire life.

"You don't know that," he said, his shoulders still shaking. "I could've eloped when I was eighteen."

"Somehow, I doubt that," I replied, because who would be stupid enough to marry Percy, even for a day? Ugh.

"Don't' worry," Percy told me a couple minutes later, after handing me my coffee. "I don't _really_ think marriage is terrible."

I decided not to ask him why I'd worry.

… … …

Here are a few of the one-liners that Percy told me over the next two weeks:

_I'm glad I know sign language, it's pretty handy._

_I'm reading a book about anti-gravity, I can't put it down!_

_I used to have a fear of hurdles, but I got over it._

Here are a few of the riddles:

_What kind of pig can you ignore at a party? A wild boar!_

_What do you call a fly with no wings? A walk!_

_Why should you never iron a four leaf clover? Because you should never press your luck!_

_Why did the pelican get kicked out of the restaurant? Because he had a very big bill!_

And, worst of all, here are a few of the knock-knock jokes:

_Knock-knock. (Pretends I've said 'who's there.') Iva. (Pretends I've said 'Iva who.') Iva sore hand from knocking!_

_Knock-knock. Dozen. Dozen anybody want to let me in?_

_Knock-knock. Harry. Harry up, it's cold out here!_

_Knock-knock. Adore. Adore is between us, open up!_

I know what you're thinking – my mornings were terrible, but at least I was prepared for anything, because there was no way they could possibly get any worse, right? Right? _Right?_

Wrong.

The start of the coffee jokes happened on a Thursday, four weeks after I'd first met him. "Knock-knock."

"Medium black, two sugars."

"Sid."

"D'you have any change for a ten?"

"Sid down and have a cup of coffee!" Percy suddenly doubled over laughing. "Annabeth, oh my god, it's a coffee joke! And we're in a coffee shop! It's a _coffee joke!_"

"I wouldn't exactly call that a joke."

"It's _hilarious!_ Annabeth, it's a _coffee joke!_"

"Yes, I got that the first time you said it."

"You're a robot," Percy decided, mirth still shining in his eyes. "That's why you're not laughing. You're a robot. It's the only explanation."

"Other than the fact that that's the worst knock-knock joke I've ever heard in my entire life."

"A robot," he repeated. "A good old-fashioned android."

"How can an android be old-fashioned?" I asked, but he ignored me.

"I think I have an idea happening here," Percy started, gesturing vaguely towards his temple. My stomach dropped.

"Uh-oh." Somehow, mixing Percy and ideas seemed a lot like combining vinegar and baking soda. I prepared myself for an imminent explosion.

To my surprise, though, Percy just handed me my coffee. "See you tomorrow, Annabeth," he said, and I tried hard not to let the twinkle behind his eyes freak me out.

… … …

"Oh, I'm sorry," Percy told me as I started to hand him a five, "we don't take cash here."

I stared at him. "What? Since when?" In the two years I'd been going to _Camp Café_, I'd never used a credit card. And what kind of place didn't take _cash?_ Checks, I understood, but _cash? What?_

"Well, you know," he said, giving me the widest, most innocent eyes I'd ever seen and letting me know without a shadow of a doubt that a joke was coming, "the only kind of money you can buy coffee with is _Starbucks._"

I swear to god, I'd never been more horrified in my entire life. That was, undebatably, the most terrible pun in all of existence.

Percy grinned at me, apparently waiting for me to respond. I spluttered for a moment before managing to choke out, "Is it even _legal_ to make _Starbucks_ jokes in a competing coffee shop?"

Percy laughed, then morphed his expression into one of mock seriousness. "You're right. As much as my manager might love me, he'd never forgive me for this. I'd get fired. But only if you tell, of course. And you won't tell. Right?" At my indifferent stare, he poked my arm and repeated, "Riiiiiggght?"

"Maybe if you get me my coffee right this instant."

"Okay, but do you have any legit money on you?"

I groaned. "Percy, I'll pay with Starbucks if you'll tell me what they _are._"

Percy opened his mouth, then closed it again. "You're good, Annabeth," he said, grinning at me again, and then took his pen out from behind his ear and drew a little star in the corner of my five dollar bill.

"There," he said, looking satisfied with his work. "A Starbuck."

"I've never heard the word _Starbuck_ in non-plural form before," I grumbled, but didn't press the issue in fear of him telling more puns. Death would have been kinder.

… … …

I scowled at Percy's back as he took his sweet, sweet time preparing my coffee. At this rate, it would be cold by the time it was done. Luckily, my phone chimed, offering me a sweet alternative to rapping my knuckles against the counter and trying hard to avert my eyes from the annoyingly stupid coffee barista and his annoyingly stupid aesthetically pleasing features.

The text was from my friend Piper, who sat next to me in macroeconomics. It read _hey, thought u should no class is cancelled, don't bother showin up. happy day off! xo_

I frowned down at my phone. _Cancelled?_ I'd gotten up at 6:30 to get ready and had put up with Percy (who hadn't made any puns yet, at least) just for my class to be _cancelled?_

"All done!" Percy exclaimed, then frowned at me. "Hey, whoa, what did your phone ever do to you? Is there a picture of a LOLCAT on there? Are you angered by the cuteness? Only you would be angered by cuteness, Annabeth."

I'd have liked to tell him that I was _not _angered by cuteness, thank you very much, but then again, I was quite frustrated by his, so… "My class got cancelled."

"Really?" Percy asked, and I tried not to watch the way his entire face lit up. "Sweet! We can totally hang out!"

"Um, don't you have work?"

"Well, we'll hang out _here_, obviously," he said, rolling his eyes like _I_ was the ridiculous one. "Come on, let's get a corner booth! If anyone comes in I'll ditch you, but probably no one will."

That's what I was afraid of. Then again, I had a twelve o'clock class and nothing but time to kill until then, so I said, "Alright."

Percy grinned at me. I looked down at my coffee to avoid his implausibly green eyes, only to find that it was frowning at me.

"Percy," I said slowly, raising my head back up to stare at him. "Why did you draw a sad face in my coffee foam?"

"Maybe it's sad that you never smile," he said, leaning forward on his elbows. "Or _maybe –_ maybe it's just plain said. Maybe… it's a _depresso._"

I couldn't help but bury my face in my hands, partially to muffle my groan and partially to hide my smile. That was _so_ bad. "This isn't even an espresso."

"This is true. It's a _depresso._ Don't you ever listen?"

"I hate you," I mumbled, trying hard to keep a straight face as I looked at him again. I would _not_ give him the satisfaction of seeing me laugh, I would _not._

"Come on, man, these are the jokes." Percy hopped across the counter before I could respond, stealing my book bag as he walked towards the corner of the shop. I glared at his retreating figure for a moment before following him.

"So, Annabeth," he started once I'd sat down, and I noticed for the first time that he had his own coffee with him. _Blue_ coffee. "What class is it that got cancelled?"

"Why is your coffee blue?" I asked, totally ignoring him. Surely even someone as strange as Percy didn't think it was normal to drink blue coffee.

He glanced down at it, surprised, like he hadn't even noticed the color. "Oh, it's just this thing with my mom. Inside joke or whatever. I drink everything blue. And eat it, if I can."

And I'd thought he was weird before. "Huh. You have inside jokes with your mom?" I was pretty close with my own mother, but not inside-jokes close.

"I have inside jokes with _everyone._ You even mention the phrase 'blue hairbrush' to me or my friend Rachel and we'll totally crack up."

"Rachel?"

"My friend from high school," he supplied, and suddenly my face felt as frowny as the one in my coffee. I'd known that Percy had a life outside of antagonizing me, but… no, actually, I hadn't. He existed solely to try to make me laugh. He never went to high school and he didn't have a mom and he _certainly_ didn't have any girl friends.

"So? The class that got cancelled?" he prompted, successfully snapping me out of my selfish reverie. Of _course_ Percy had a life. I was not the center of his world. I hardly even knew the guy.

"Macroeconomics." His nose crinkled up like he'd just tasted something that wasn't blue. Or what I'm assuming he'd look like if he tasted something that wasn't blue.

"That's boring. What're you majoring in?"

"Architecture."

Instead of bringing up _his_ major, like I'd expected him to, Percy just nodded. "So, if you had built that apartment complex over there," he nodded towards a building outside the shop windows, "what would you have done differently?"

I went off on angles and arches and load-bearing joints, and, yeah, Percy's eyes looked a little glazed over, but he was also giving me a genuine little smile as I rambled. "You'll make a good architect," he said when I was finished. "You've got the passion. And the smarts, too, apparently, because I didn't understand _half_ of what you just said."

"Uh, yeah," I responded, suddenly feeling blush-y under his compliments. "So what's your major?"

"Marine biology." He didn't expand, but instead picked my wallet up from off the table and started going through its contents. My fingers itched to snatch it away from him, but he'd been mostly pleasant today, so I let him snoop.

"Annabeth Chase," he read aloud off my college ID card, then grinned at me. "You go to CCNY?"

"Uh-huh."

"Me too! Awesome!" He held his hand up for… a high five? I hadn't given a high five since middle school, and the thought doing it now seemed a little silly, but I complied all the same.

"Why haven't I seen you there before, then?" I asked. I'd been going there for two years, after all – chances were that I'd have spotted him getting lost in the halls at _some_ point.

"I only started a couple months ago," Percy said easily. "And, actually, this term I'm taking mainly online and night classes because I have to work during the day." He nodded around at the coffee shop.

"A couple months ago? You don't look like a freshman."

"Of course I don't, I'm twenty!" He looked a little indignant. I made a mental note that we were the same age. "I've been working for _ages_ to get enough money to pay for college. This job's fairly new, though, I'd only been here for six weeks before I met you."

"Oh," I said, suddenly feeling stupid. Of _course_ Percy had to work. Not everyone got a free scholarship ride to a university like me, and not everyone had a mom paying for rent on their apartment. I was _so_ insensitive.

Percy didn't seem to think so, though, because he was moving along through the other contents of my wallet. "Library card, no surprise there… drivers license, boring… money! Never boring." He took out a couple of bills and then retrieved his pen from behind his ear.

"What are you –" I started, but Percy was already drawing little stars in the corners of the bills. I groaned. "Not _this_ again."

"This again," Percy said simply, his hair falling into his eyes as he ducked down over his task. I glared at the top of his head for a moment before sighing and propping my face up in my hands.

"So tell me about marine biology."

"Oh, you know," he added a random smiley next to the star, "the usual. Fish. Corals. Seaweed."

"Seaweed?"

"Oh, yeah, seaweed is super cool. Did you know that giant kelp can be up to 60 meters long?"

"That's… interesting."

"It is!" Percy had looked up at me and was grinning enthusiastically. "Like, a ton of the ocean's ecosystems depend _solely_ on seaweed! The world would totally descend into chaos if it disappeared, because a ton of people use only the ocean for resources and –"

"Alright, I get it," I interrupted, afraid that if he kept talking I'd crack and smile at him. He was just really _cute,_ okay? "You only like seaweed because your brain is full of it."

Percy frowned at me. "Seaweed isn't smart."

"This is true."

"So if my brain is full of seaweed…"

"Go on, you're getting there."

"Hey, I'm plenty smart!"

"You keep telling yourself that, Seaweed Brain."

Percy threw a coffee stirrer at me. I ducked and – very maturely – stuck my tongue out at him.

"What are you planning to do with a marine biology major, anyway?" I asked him, hoping to steer the conversation away from anything that would result in me laughing. Which might be difficult, but I could try. Career choices were serious enough to help me keep a straight face, right?

"I'm gonna be a dolphin trainer at Seaworld." I widened my eyes at him. So much for serious.

"A _dolphin trainer? Really?_"

He nodded at me. I couldn't tell whether he joking or not. "Wouldn't that be awesome?"

"I don't… I mean, will a marine biology major _help_ you there?"

"I'm kinda hoping they'll see the word 'marine' on my resume and totally think it's enough."

"That's…" I spluttered, "…don't you need special courses for that? Like, training? Or something?"

"_Annabeth,_" Percy sighed dramatically, "you're thinking too hard about this. Just picture me in a wetsuit and the rest of the pieces will fall into place."

"Ugh," I said, hoping it sounded like a horrified ugh and not an oh-my-god-that's-so-freakin'-hot ugh. No comment on which it really was, though.

Percy and I spent a long time talking about school, GPAs, puns, swimming, and the letter 'r.' I brought up the first two. He brought up the second two. I don't even _know_ what the 'r' thing was all about, but the next time I checked my phone, it was 11:30.

I widened my eyes at the digital clock. I'd spent _four hours_ talking to Percy? And, more shockingly, not a single customer had come in during those four hours?

"How is this place not broke?" I asked him, as I packed up my stuff. Even _more_ shocking than the fact that _Camp Café_ was somehow still up and running was the fact that I was reluctant to leave.

Percy shrugged. "Mr. D's, like, super rich. The manager – Chiron – does all the actual running and owning and stuff. Mr. D just bought the place so he could tell girls he owns a coffee shop. Apparently that's a turn-on." He grinned at me. "Some people even say that _working_ at a coffee shop is a turn-on."

I could feel my cheeks heating up faintly. Was he _flirting _with me? Surely he wasn't flirting with me. He was just being friendly and goofy and weird because he was Percy and that was what Percy did.

Also, guys didn't flirt with me. _Especially_ not cute guys, even if they were illogically annoying and found puns unironically funny. And Percy was all of those things in abundance.

"Farewell, fellow CCNY slave," he waved me off, saluting me with a dramatic flourish. "Think about me in class!"

I blushed all the way out the door and obviously didn't comply with his request. Obviously. _Obviously_.

_Obviously._

… … …

"Hey," Percy greeted me a few weeks later. "So what's fat, hairy, and drinks a lot of coffee?"

"You."

"_Java the Hutt!_" I frowned at him. In addition to this being a bad joke, which all of them were, it also just so happened to make no sense whatsoever.

"Huh?" I asked, then felt like slamming my head against the counter. What was I _doing?_ Why was I _encouraging him?_

"You know," he giggled – giggled! – as he turned around to prepare my coffee. "Like Jabba the Hutt." I stared at him some more. "From Star Wars."

"I've never seen Star Wars."

Percy legitimately dropped the paper cup he'd been holding and gaped at me. _Gaped._ I reached forward to close his mouth, then pulled away to avoid prolonging contact.

"You've never seen Star Wars," he echoed faintly, his eyes unfocused. "You've never… Annabeth, you've never _lived._"

I quirked an eyebrow. He laughed, kind of maniacally.

"Next you'll be telling me you've never seen Star _Trek._" I gave him a one-shouldered shrug in response, and felt kind of bad when he had to grip the edge of the counter to support himself. "You've never seen… you've…"

"Well, they're basically the same thing, aren't they?" All the blood drained from Percy's face as he slumped forward with sorrow. Why was it that the thought of him being a closet nerd just made him cuter?

"You're lucky that I like you, Annabeth," he said slowly, his voice unsteady. "I have _killed_ for less than that."

Percy liked me! Why did that make me feel like doing a jig? How did one jig, anyway? I'd never jigged before. My wandering thoughts seemed to be apparent to Percy, because he gripped me by the shoulders and shook me lightly. I fought black a blush at the contact.

"Annabeth," he said slowly, looking me directly in the eyes. I averted my gaze to the ceiling. "You are going to watch Star Wars with me. And then Star Trek. It will be a marathon. You will live. You will laugh. You will enjoy yourself. Most importantly, though, _you will learn the different between Jedis and Vulcans._"

"Vulcan is the Roman god of blacksmiths," I supplied helpfully. Percy groaned and turned away from me to prepare my coffee, muttering things like _never seen Star Trek_ and _the same thing, honestly_ as he stuck the coffee stirrer in through the lid with more force than necessary.

"My apartment. Saturday. Eight in the morning. Keep the whole day open, it's gonna take a while."

"What about college?"

"I said _Saturday._"

"I have studying."

"Some educations are more important than others."

"I don't know where you _live._"

Percy whipped out his ever-present pen and wrote what I assumed was his address on the back of my coffee cup. Then he smiled and wrote on it some more. When I looked at it, I found that in addition to directions, he'd drawn a little map on it to illustrate the way to his place.

"Get it?" Percy said, grinning at me like a little kid. "It's a _mappucino._"

I spun on my heel and left so that I wouldn't burst out into laughter. Or dump my coffee over his head. Both of the urges were strong.

"Don't be late!" Percy called out after me. I responded by turning around to glare at him and accidentally bumping into a table.

… … …

I told myself I wasn't going to show up all the way to Percy's apartment, up until the point when I knocked on the door. It was then that I decided to throw in the towel and admit to myself that I may or may not have had a little crush on Percy.

"You came!" he greeted me as he opened the door, before I'd even finished knocking. The thought of him waiting for me was like… whoa. Him grabbing my hand and dragging me inside was like… _whoa._

Percy's apartment was tiny. I frowned at the boxes piled up in the corner, filled with items and belongings.

"Did you just move here?" I asked aloud. Percy turned to grin at me.

"Actually, I'm moving out. I wouldn't've given you my address if I was planning to stay here. You give off a kind of serial killer vibe, you know."

"Gee, thanks."

"Well, maybe if you smiled…"

I frowned at him, then frowned harder when I realized what was tucked behind his ear. "You've _still_ got that pen in your hair? You don't even have work today!"

"Huh?" Percy reached up to touch his pen, like he hadn't even realized it was there. "Oh, right, sorry. I put him there right after I shower every morning and it's kind of just become… routine." He grinned at me. "I'm sure you'd know _all_ about that."

I blushed – I'd been doing a lot of that lately – and shoved past him to sit down on his couch. It was worn, but in a good way. A cozy way. "Yeah, well, at least my habits aren't _weird._ No one's going to call me out for going to the same coffee shop for two years. You've got a pen in your hair and you eat _blue food._"

"Blue makes things taste better," Percy said simply, flopping down gracelessly next to me. "And the pen has a _name_, you know."

I stared at him. "No. No, I did not know that."

"Riptide." He grinned at me, pulling the apparently humanoid pen out from behind his ear and twirling it around in his fingers. "I've had him since high school."

"Him," I repeated weakly.

"Yeah. I was always losing pens so I figured, hey, maybe if I put one behind my ear I won't, and voila! It worked. And then I got really attached to him and kept replacing the ink stick and… anyway. He's great."

"He's a _pen._"

"Pens are people too."

"No. They're not. They're _pens._"

"_You bite your tongue,_" Percy scolded me, placing his feet in my lap as some sort of reprimand. I shoved them off.

"Make me."

"Annabeth," he said slowly, looking at me very seriously. "I think you need to be.. _pun_-ished."

It took a while for the joke to sink in, but when it finally did, a lot of _pun-_ching came along with it.

… … …

Six days later, there were girls in the shop. Three girls. Pretty girls. Who went to college with me. And texted in class. And were _giggly._

Percy was wearing a hat with a picture of a steaming coffee mug on it, and for the first time ever, didn't notice me when I came in. He was too busy chatting up the giggly girls. Who were acting extra giggly, just for him and his hotness. Which was just so _shallow._ For the first time in a while, my scowl as I walked up to the counter was genuine.

"Hey, Annabeth!" Percy greeted me when he finally realized I was there. "My charmingness is finally attracting customers! Just like it attracted you, right?" I neglected to answer, and instead slammed a five down onto the counter with more force than strictly necessary. The girls stopped giggling to stare at me, and I gave them my best glower. The shortest one backed away minimally.

Good.

"Whoa, you look _extra _grumpy today," Percy said, looking me up and down. "But not to worry! I have _just_ the thing to cheer you up." And then he reached under the counter to produce… a matching coffee hat.

Damn. I'd been hoping for a gun that he'd use to shoot the three trespassers. Kidding! Kidding, obviously kidding…

"How nice of you," I said flatly. "Medium black, two sugars."

"Annabeth, short of being in a car accident and getting brain damage, there is no way on earth I could ever forget your order. Even then, I'd probably wake up from my coma saying _medium black, two sugars._ I don't even _like_ black coffee, so my family would think I'd totally lost my mind or something."

The girls giggled some more. I ignored them in favor of responding, "Who says you haven't already?" Percy grinned at me. The girls _ooh_'ed like this was all some sort of show for them, the little –

Wait. Did Percy _like_ giggly girls? Did he _like_ girls that laughed and swooned and had no problems smiling at him even _before_ he had to resort to telling puns? I hoped not.

"C'mere," he said, beckoning me closer. I stepped forward reluctantly, and he jammed the cap onto my head. "Annabeth Chase, I swear I didn't know beauty until I saw you in this _cap_puccino three seconds ago."

"Percy, this is demeaning," I whined, as the girls laughed some more. Percy's entire face lit up at my response.

"What? I don't know _de meaning_ of that word!" And then he slapped his knee. Literally. I took the hat off and pressed it to my mouth to muffle my screams.

Percy pulled me close to him as the girls practically fell over themselves with laughter. "I saw that on TV once and have been waiting _five months_ to use it in conversation," he whispered in my ear. My pulse jumped at the sensation of his warm breath against my skin. "So from the bottom of my heart, thank you. Seriously."

"Right," I said uneasily, pulling away from him, and then found myself being hit full-force by one of his smiles. Beware of crinkly eye corners, as they could easily melt your organs and make it suddenly hard for you to stand.

Of _course_ Percy didn't like giggly girls, because he liked me. He wasn't inviting giggly girls over to his house to watch Star Wars or looking up awful jokes to tell them or buying them coffee hats to match his own. He was doing those things for _me._ And if there was one thing in the world I wasn't, it was giggly.

Still, I couldn't help but let my thoughts stray towards the topic as I exited the shop and made my way towards campus. What would be the harm in smiling at Percy, anyway? I got the feeling he would take it as a victory, sure, but he wouldn't be _smug_ about it or anything. He'd be overjoyed. He might dance. He might even stop telling me terrible puns every morning.

My stomach dropped. What if Percy stopped telling me terrible puns every morning? What if he stopped trying to make me laugh? The prospect of Percy backing off and being less awful suddenly didn't seem so great.

And, of course, the puns had become routine. They had become a part of my schedule and if they stopped my mornings would be all messed up and my life would be thrown off-kilter and eventually the world would erupt into a zombie apocalypse caused by Percy and his stupid jokes. So I had to let Percy keep trying to make me laugh. I had to keep not smiling at him. It was the only logical thing to do.

So I didn't smile at him. But when he wasn't around… well, I smiled a lot. I smiled when Piper asked me if I was into anybody and I thought of Percy's stupid green eyes and replied _maybe._ I smiled when I was about to feed a dollar to a college vending machine and found that there was a tiny little star in the corner of it and ended up stuffing it back in my wallet. I smiled when I overheard two guys in the back of my calculus class arguing over whether Star Wars or Star Trek was better. I smiled when I turned on my TV and found that a documentary on dolphin training was on.

I smiled when I thought about Percy.

… … …

"What did you do to it?" I asked suspiciously as I peered warily down at my coffee. In the several months he'd been working the morning shift, Percy had never once prepared my order before I arrived. And yet, when I'd walked into the store moments before, he'd shoved a cup into my hand and was now giving me a wide smile.

"Oh, nothing," he said, innocence radiating off of him in a way that could only mean he wasn't innocent. I took a small sip off my coffee, prepared for the worst, and promptly spluttered at the taste.

"Percy," I said slowly, surprised at how subdued my voice sounded, "why does my coffee taste like dirt?"

"Because it was just _ground!_" He clutched his sides as he doubled over in laughter.

"Did you really put dirt in my coffee just to make that joke?" I asked weakly.

"Of course not. I went through seven brands of canned coffee trying to find one that tasted like dirt. I was up all night tasting them and gagging. And I spent, like, _fifty dollars._ Totally worth it for the look on your face, though."

"Oh." Butterflies fluttered around in my stomach. He'd stayed up all night for me? And spent fifty dollars? "Sorry. But, you know, if it's canned coffee, it wasn't technically just ground."

"Shut up, Annabeth," Percy said, rolling his eyes. "You know you want to laugh. Go ahead. Espresso yourself."

"Do I get real coffee now?" I asked, totally ignoring him. He stuck his tongue out at me and turned around to actually grind some coffee beans.

"So," I started loudly, in a vain attempt to distract myself from his back. "What kind of canned coffee tasted the worst, anyway?"

"I dunno. I think it was Flogers or Folgers or something like that. My dyslexia acts up pretty bad at night."

My heart skipped a couple of crucial beats. "You have dyslexia?"

"Uh-huh." He slid me my coffee. "What, does that reinforce your whole seaweed-brain theory or something?"

"It's more of a hypothesis," I supplied. "But, no. It's just… I have dyslexia too."

"_Reallly?_" Percy's eyes went wide with what appeared to be an equal ratio of surprise and happiness. "But… you're so… _smart._"

That feeling in my stomach was from the bad coffee, okay? Not because Percy had just called me smart. "You can be intelligent and dyslexic at the same time, you know."

"Unless you're me, of course."

"_Of course,_" I repeated, and he grinned at me. I found myself struggling quite fiercely to restrain myself from smiling back at him. I deserved a medal for my resolve, _honestly._

"Well, it's official, I suppose," Percy said, resting his elbows on the counter. "We're soulmates."

Despite my best efforts, I could feel my face heating up to about the same temperature as my coffee. I looked down at it so that he wouldn't see me blushing, then frowned.

"I ordered a medium."

"Well, technically, you didn't order anything other than 'real coffee.'"

"This is a large."

"I might have felt kind of bad about the whole canned coffee deal. So this is just my attempt to get back into your good graces."

I didn't have the nerve to tell him he already had a permanent spot there. Instead, I wrapped both hands around the cup, reluctant to leave despite the fact that I'd been there for well over five minutes and I had less than half an hour before my class started.

Maybe Percy sensed this, because he decided to start another conversation. "You know, that coffee's actually a lot like me."

I quirked an eyebrow at him. "Really."

"Oh, yeah. You know, tall, hot, strong… the works."

I snorted derisively. "I'd say you're a bit more like the Folgers. You know, unappealing, repulsive…"

"Dude. I put the 'sexy' in 'dyslexia.'"

"Probably taste like dirt…"

"I can assure you I don't taste like dirt."

"I can assure you I don't believe you."

"Would you like me to prove it?" Percy questioned, his eyes twinkling as he leaned closer to me than strictly necessary. The back of my neck prickled as I took a few steps back.

"Yes. I mean, no. Well. Um. Class. I… don't want to be late." _I don't want accidentally kiss you._

No! No, shut up! Never in my entire life had I inwardly scolded my brain before, but there I was, practically waggling my finger at it disapprovingly.

"Well, you know what they say," Percy called after me as I turned to leave. "Better latte than never!"

Disregarding the bad pun, I kind of got the feeling he was talking about something a bit bigger than what time I would arrive at my macroeconomics class.

… … …

The semester ended. Christmas break came up. I celebrated it with my two younger stepbrothers and my stepmom and my dad. A couple days later, I went over to Malcolm's apartment for eggnog, and then I stopped by my mom's to give her a present and a hug.

I didn't talk to Percy for three weeks. My stomach was uneasy up until I saw him in early January, on the first day of spring term, wearing a Santa hat and an easy grin, completely unchanged. He ripped gingerbread men apart and dunked them in my coffee. I pretended to be annoyed.

I told him my holidays were nice. I couldn't help but think about how much nicer they would have been if he'd been there for them.

Percy continued to be simultaneously constant and inconstant. That is, he was always punny and ridiculous and _there,_ but he always had something different to say. He always knew how to make me smile. Not that I ever did, on the outside. But on the _inside…_ that was another story.

Was it possible to fall in love with someone in the span of six months? Someone whose last name you'd never even bothered to learn? Someone you'd never even really been on a date with? Someone who was so far out of realm of possibility of being your type that the entire thought of it felt illogical? Someone who told bad puns every day and worked at a coffee shop and messed with your well-organized schedule and drove you crazy with his pen and his hair and his _eyes?_

I couldn't tell you that, but I _could _tell you that when I walked into the shop on a seemingly-normal Thursday, Percy was wearing a party hat. A _party hat._ A polka dotted party hat. With a cotton ball top. He looked so implausibly adorable that I had to steady myself by grabbing onto one of the corner tables and taking a couple of deep, calming breaths.

"Annabeth!" he exclaimed, waving his arms around frantically. "Guess what day it is?"

"Your birthday?"

"Pfft, no, my birthday was in August. Guess again!"

"Gee, I don't know, Percy."

"It's our six-month anniversary! We've officially known each other for half a year! Isn't that great?"

Had it _really_ been six months? It felt like a lifetime. Surely there hadn't ever really been a period of my life that didn't have Percy in it. It just seemed… impossible.

At the same time, though, it felt like I'd met him only yesterday. He felt new and fun and _exciting._

"I made cookies to celebrate," Percy was saying, gesturing to a tray lying on the counter. The cookies were blue. "My mom's secret recipe, deliciousness guaranteed!"

"Um," I said, testing to make sure my legs were strong enough to get me over to the cash register, "thanks."

"Despite your insistence on keeping a cool, non-smiling demeanor," here he paused to glare at me, "I'd like to think we've made a lot of progress since we first met. You've seen Star Wars, you roll your eyes considerably less, and sometimes – _sometimes_ – you come in at 7:3_1_."

"I don't do that," I protested. Surely I didn't do that. Did I?

"Oh, yes you do. Rarely, but you do. And believe me, those are the days when I stand there hyperventilating for a full minute, thinking you've been hit by a bus or contracted ovarian cancer or –"

"Shut up," I grumbled, sliding him a five. Percy gave me an incredulous look.

"Excuse me? Are you… are you trying to _pay_ me? On our _anniversary?_ It's like you think I don't even love you."

Cue blushing. _Hard_ blushing. Probably the hardest I'd ever blushed in my life. Percy didn't seem to notice, as he was too busy reaching behind him to untie his apron. The way his arm muscles flexed just made me blush even _harder._ I could probably set a world record for how red my face was.

"As I was saying," Percy continued, totally oblivious to the fact that he should be taking a picture of me to submit to Guinness, "since you've improved so much since our first encounter, I was thinking you could take the Ultimate Test today."

I shot him a skeptical look. "I have classes today."

"_Aha!_" He shouted the word so loudly that I jumped minimally. "You must be smart the point of psychicness, Annabeth, because you totally just read my mind. The Ultimate Test… is for you to skip out on your classes today."

The redness left my face, seeing as all the blood had drained from it completely. "Um. _What?_"

"Come _on,_ Annabeth, it's our anniversary! I'm skipping out on work for you."

"Couldn't you get fired for that?"

"Thalia's taking over for me. We can leave as soon as she gets here." He checked his watch – which you could tell was waterproof, no surprise there – and said, "She should be here in a minute."

"Percy, I can't…" My throat felt dry. I couldn't. Could I?

"_Please,_ Annabeth?" he whined, widening his eyes to what should've been a physically impossible largeness. "Don't pretend like you haven't already read every single chapter in the text books. Do you even _learn_ anything new in class?"

Occasionally. "Attendance is ten percent of my grade."

"Have you ever met anyone who got docked a letter grade because they missed one class?"

"But… but it's _routine._"

"Annabeth," Percy said, his eyes turning remotely serious. "It's the beginning of the term. Nothing's routine yet. And I swear on my mother's blue cookie recipe that you will enjoy yourself if you come with me. You can critique buildings all day. We can talk about pi. The boring kind, not the delicious kind."

Despite everything, I fought off a smile. Percy was _always_ making fight off smiles. "I… um…"

He held up his hand in a solemn-oath sort of way. "It will be a pun-free day, I promise."

"Well…"

"Oh, _come on,_ you're choosing between the options of going to college or spending the whole day with _me._"

"Well, when you put it that way." I turned to leave, but I wasn't serious. Percy whimpered and tugged on my elbow. The ridiculously sexy noise combined with the touching was enough to convince me that a day spent with him would be worth all the later stressing.

"Okay," I said finally, and the whooping noises Percy made were made less obnoxious by the fact that I got a good peek at his stomach muscles when he jumped up and fist-pumped the air.

… … …

He took me bowling first. And ordered a lane with kiddie bumpers. The acne-ridden teenager behind the counter gave him a look, but Percy didn't even have the decency to be ashamed. Somehow, neither did I.

Somewhere, in the back of my brain, past all the strong, independently feministic parts, I entertained a fantasy of Percy clasping his hand over mine and helping me bowl. It was a nice thought, but not a very accurate one, as the kiddie bumpers ended up being extremely necessary. Percy was, hands down, the worst bowler I had ever had the horror of witnessing.

"That is your third gutter ball in a _row,_" I stated in awe, totally amazed by how truly _awful_ he was. There were _kiddie bumpers! _Percy didn't seem to mind much, though. He kept sliding around the place in his bowling shoes, and I'd had to drag him away from the temporary tattoo machines more than a couple of times. He'd probably spend every single quarter he had on those things if he didn't have me around to keep him in line.

"I _know_," he said delightedly, dusting off his hands proudly. "I'll admit it takes talent to bowl a strike, but three gutter balls in a row? That's a whole other level of awesome. I'm a true prodigy."

"You're something, alright," I muttered, sticking my hands in the holes of my neon bowling ball and striding up to our lane. Unlike _some_ people, I was a fairly decent bowler. I wasn't amazing or anything, but I got spares at regular intervals and strikes every so often. And I hardly _ever_ got gutter balls. Especially not with kiddie bumpers.

I knocked down seven pins. Percy cheered loud enough for the group next to us to turn and stare. He replied by stuffing some more nachos in his mouth.

I ended up beating Percy 220 to 30. He insisted on taking me out for ice cream in order to celebrate my victory, which didn't make a lot of sense to me, as a _chipmunk_ could have beaten Percy in there, but he didn't seem to follow my reasoning.

"So what kind of ice cream do you like? And if you say vanilla, I swear I'm going to leave right now."

"What's wrong with vanilla?" I demanded, because it may not have been my favorite flavor, but it was still _awesome._ Better than sherbet, at any rate.

"Absolutely nothing. But if you turned out to be a plain-black-coffee _and_ a vanilla ice cream person, I'm not sure if I'd like to be caught in public with you. You've got to have _some_ sort of excitement in your life, you know?"

"Ice cream flavors don't equate excitement," I muttered, but let the subject drop anyway. "Mint-chip."

Percy's face split out in a wild smile. "Really? Me too! It's the closest thing they've got to blue on the menu, you see."

"Oh, yeah, because _that_ makes a lot of sense."

"Blue makes things taste better," Percy said, quoting himself from a couple months back, when I'd gone over to his house to watch Star Wars and Star Trek with him. It struck me, then, how much I'd found out about him since that day. His best friend in high school. His favorite extracurricular activities. His two stepdads. His _real_ dad. His incredibly sweet yet badass mom. His love of all music, except for Frank Sinatra. Never Frank Sinatra.

After then I realized just how much he knew about _me._ He knew my favorite color. He knew my schedule, he knew my background, he knew my lifelong dream of wanting to see the Parthenon. He knew I was irrationally OCD and a control freak and had abandonment issues. He knew what I looked like before I got my coffee every morning – which, let me tell you , wasn't great – and he knew how grumpy I could be and he knew exactly how to cheer me up, even if I didn't show it.

He knew me.

And he liked me anyway.

And I liked _him._ It hit me so hard that I almost choked on my breath. I liked Percy. So, so much. More than liked. Way more than liked.

So I'd answered my question. It _was _possible to fall in love with someone after only six months, because I, being the prodigy that I was, had done it.

… … …

As it was starting to get dark out, Percy took me ice skating at a park lake that he claimed was near his new apartment. He wouldn't point out which building was his – "one day the puns might get too bad and you'll break, and I don't want you coming over to kill me in my sleep" – but I liked knowing the general vicinity of where he lived. It was a nice place.

It was freezing out, snowing lightly, but I didn't feel too cold. Percy was a better skater than he was a bowler. Not a great one, but a good one. He held my hand so that we could support each other as we slid clumsily across the ice. It took every single bone in my body not to laugh every time we fell over.

No laughing. Laughing meant no more jokes. Laughing meant no more routine-breaking. Laughing meant no more Percy.

It was becoming harder and harder to keep myself in check, though. Especially when we got off the ice and Percy threw a snowball in my face. And then we had a war. And then we built snow forts like kids and I had to duck down behind my wall every now and again to smother my giggles. Percy eventually gave up on the snowballs, walked up to me, and smashed a handful of snow in my face. I retaliated by shoving him face-first into the ground.

Then we built a snowman. We used rocks for buttons, the smiley, and the eyes, and then gave him a hat made out of sticks. Percy took Riptide out from behind his ear to use as a carrot nose substitute. Our masterpiece was equal parts disgraceful and beautiful. Percy named it Bob and took a picture of it on his phone. Then he insisted on taking another one of me posing with it. Then I took one of him. He put his arm around it like they were good friends.

Then, because it was only logical, Percy took a picture of the two of us together, his hand resting against my shoulders and a couple of his fingers in my hair.

Then he asked for my number. And then I gave it to him.

… … …

My coffee was incredibly bitter a few mornings later. I gave Percy a look.

"Why is there no sugar in this?"

"Because I'm sweet enough for the both of us!" At my glare, he amended his statement to, "_You're _sweet enough for the both of us?"

My deadly look didn't let up. He sighed dramatically. "Okay, fine. I guess it's just bitter to match your attitude."

I _was_ feeling kind of bitter. There were four other people in the shop. Four! Percy really was reeling in the customers. Thalia, now that I thought about it, _had_ been kind of scary.

But other customers meant that Percy couldn't spend a full ten minutes talking to me before I left. If you'd told me six months ago that I'd one day find that a _bad_ thing, I would have laughed in your face. And then poured my bitter coffee on it. But all the same, I was seriously bummed out.

"Hey," Percy said, taking his time spooning sugar into my coffee. "So… I was thinking… maybe… if you wanted… we-could-go-to-the-movies-next-Wednesday?"

He said it so fast that it took a moment for me to catch up. When I did, though, I totally did a silent victory cheer. He'd asked me out! For real! _Finally!_

Except, _damn._ I had a huge test on Thursday and I'd already committed to spending all of Wednesday studying. My grades had not yet suffered from my Percy-filled life, and it was a record I was hoping to keep. That way, if he became a permanent fixture – you know, a _permanent_ permanent fixture – I could be sure that it wouldn't affect my studying habits.

"I can't," I told him, and couldn't help but revel a bit in the way his face dropped. Which was awful of me, I know, but come _on!_ It's pretty nice to have someone that disappointed on your behalf. "Not that day," I added on quickly. "But… you know. Some other time. Would be fine. Probably. I'd have to, you know, check my –"

"Right," Percy said, his face red for what I think was the first time ever. I looked back to see the guy behind me in line looking seriously pissed. I turned red too.

"Um, I'll text you later," Percy told me. My stomach _whoosh_ed in relief. Percy had gotten my number a full five days ago and had yet to use it. It had been starting to make me feel uneasy.

"See you later," I said, and the second I was facing away from him, I let my features split out in a smile.

A real date.

… … …

Except Percy didn't text me that night. I certainly didn't stay up until three AM waiting for my phone to chime or anything, but… oh, right, I did do that. Was I pathetic or _what?_

Yes. Yes, I was most definitely pathetic, because the next day when I walked into _Camp Café_ and found _Thalia_ behind the counter, I – well, I _meep_ed. And then proceeded to freak out because Percy hadn't texted me and now Percy wasn't here and oh my god he'd _died,_ he'd died and I never even got to kiss him and –

"Where's Percy?" I asked Thalia, hoping the slightly psychotic desperation I was feeling didn't reverberate in my voice. She frowned at me. We'd never really actually had a conversation with each other, after all.

"He called in sick," she said simply. I exhaled in relief, feeling kind of stupid. Of _course_ Percy wasn't dead. He was fine. He was just sick.

I laughed in a kind of giddy happiness. Percy was fine! Thalia stared at me like I'd just grown an extra head.

"Sorry," I said, still grinning wildly. "Percy's just… annoying. Seriously annoying. I'm just really glad I don't have to put up with him today. That's all." That sounded plausible, right? A reason for laughter? It worked.

Thalia handed me my coffee – she didn't write my name down on my coffee cup or make any puns, which just felt wrong – and when I turned around, Percy was standing there.

He really did look awful. His hair was even messier than normal, and he had rings around his eyes. I couldn't help but feel a little bad, because he'd probably caught a cold from being out in the snow with me a few days earlier, but then I realized that he didn't have his pen in his hair and all my thoughts just… vanished. He looked so _young_. Vulnerable. The lack of pen made all the difference, somehow.

It didn't help that he was wearing a blue pair of flannel pajamas with little dolphins on it. My heart stuttered. I contorted my face into a scowl to hide my smile.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him. He just stared at me, his eyes wide and kind of unfocused. He didn't look away for nearly a full minute, and I shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. "I mean… shouldn't you be at home? Resting? You look like you need rest."

"I came here to tell you your coffee pun," he said weakly, blinking rapidly. "I… it's routine."

"You could have just texted it to me. Hey, speaking of which, why didn't you text me last night like you said you would?" Crap, did that sound too needy? It sounded too needy.

"I felt lousy and went to bed early. And now… I'm sick. And the pun had to be in person, because, it's always been, you know?"

"Alright." I waited patiently for him to assault me with a terrible joke, but he just stood there, staring at me some more. I raised my eyebrows curiously. "Well?"

"Huh?"

"The coffee pun."

"Oh. Oh, right." He shoved his hands in his pajama pockets and finally averted his eyes from me as he muttered, "Stealing somebody's coffee is called mugging."

I knew right then and there that he really was very sick, because he didn't even attempt to wrestle my coffee from me in a demonstration. I fought back the urge to hug him and stroke his hair and act like a total teenage girl, not only because I would get sick, too, but because Thalia would totally see. But he'd come all the way down here! To tell me a coffee pun! While he was _dying!_

"Do you need a ride home?" I asked him, but he just shook his head.

"Got a taxi waiting," he mumbled, gesturing vaguely towards the window before turning on his heel and dashing for the door. I got the feeling that maybe he was about to throw up and didn't want me to see.

It was a sign of how in love with him I was that the thought of him retching didn't even gross me out.

… … …

Percy didn't show up the next day. Or the next. I spent the entire weekend biting my nails and waiting for him to text me, but he didn't. And then he wasn't there on Monday. Or Tuesday.

On Wednesday, which was _a whole week_ since I'd last seen him, I stayed up late on symptom checker websites. Percy's vision was probably blurred, right? He'd certainly looked unfocused. And he'd seemed pretty nauseated. And his eyes were certainly red-rimmed.

Oh, my god. The site said he could have Uveitis! Or Keratitis! Or _Glaucoma! _What if Percy had Glaucoma? What if he was going to go _blind_? What if his eyes turned all clouded and less green? What if he never got to see me smile, ever?

What if Percy had Neurofibromatosis? What if he was going to _die?_

I knew I was overreacting, okay? I knew I was freaking out. But he'd looked so… _off_ the last time I'd seen him. What if something had happened? He could have been in the _hospital! _Why hadn't he texted me? Why hadn't I gotten his number? Why hadn't I demanded he show me where his new apartment was? Why hadn't I _seen_ him?

I didn't end up studying at all on Wednesday, and when we got our test results back two days later, I scored an 84. I couldn't even bring myself to care. Where was _Percy?_

His name wasn't in the phone book. Believe me, I looked.

The next weekend was excruciating. I found myself going to the bowling alley, the ice cream shop, and a bunch of aquariums I felt Percy might frequent. I went to the park that he'd claimed was by his apartment and scoped out all the buildings, but I couldn't eliminate any of them. There just wasn't enough _evidence._

Where _was_ he?

When Monday finally rolled around and I saw that Thalia was still behind the counter, I felt like crying. Instead, I marched up purposefully and stared her down.

"When's Percy going to be back?" I asked, no longer caring if she knew I was hopelessly, irrevocably in love with her coworker. What did it even _matter?_ I just wanted him back.

Thalia raised her eyebrows at me. "What do you mean?"

"Is he still sick? When is he coming back?"

"Um, Percy requested to be transferred to the night shift a week ago. He was only sick for a few days."

My stomach dropped right out of me. "_What?_ But… but he said he hated the night shift!"

Thalia shrugged like it was no big deal, which it _was._ "He said it worked better for his schedule or something. Do you want your coffee or not?"

I took it and walked robotically out of the store. Percy was back. He was working the night shift. He hadn't called or texted or let me know that he'd be gone. He'd let me think he was _dead_.

Maybe he expected me to find him. Maybe he expected me to break my routine and come into the shop at nine PM even though I never left my apartment after eight and would give me a smile the second I came in and say _took you long enough_ and then act surprised when I was angry at him and then tell me a coffee pun.

Yes. Yes, that sounded plausible. I'd come back tonight and –

Hey, wait! _No!_ I was _mad_ at Percy. Very mad. Granted, I felt a hell of a lot better knowing that he was okay, but I was still seriously pissed. He'd disappeared without a word! He'd made me get a B on a test! I'd just wait for him to crack and text me. Yes, that's what I'd do.

That's exactly what I'd do.

… … …

I lasted a full three days before I crumbled and jogged over to _Camp Café_ right before ten PM. I was actually pretty proud of myself – I hadn't thought I'd last 24 hours before I broke. It'd been over _two weeks_ since I'd heard any bad jokes, and I hadn't groaned in exasperation in just as long. It was driving me _crazy._

Except, Percy wasn't behind the counter when I came in. This guy with acne and a wisp of a goatee was standing there instead. My heart sank.

"Where's Percy?" I asked him. Instead of glowering at me like Thalia, he just gave me a smile.

"He quit yesterday. The night shift wasn't working with his schedule." Wait, _what?_

"But… he requested the night shift! Because it worked _better_ with his schedule."

"Yeah, I thought it was weird, too. But he really didn't want to work mornings anymore. And he has afternoon classes. And he has to sleep at night. So he had to quit."

"Oh," I said, my throat dryer than the Sahara desert. Me and my stupid pride. If I'd come here _one day _ago, I would have seen him. I would have talked to him. "I… sorry. I don't want anything." Except Percy.

"No problem," the guy said, still smiling at me. The constant cheeriness reminded me of Percy, which made my eyes prickle.

Percy didn't want to work the morning shift anymore. Was it me? Had he left because of me? Had he given up on me? Had I been too stubborn, too serious, too unbearable? Had he ever really even _liked_ me?

"I… bye," I told the guy behind the counter, then left and didn't look back.

… … …

Everything went back to pre-Percy normal. Five minutes in the coffee shop every morning. Occasional pleasantries exchanged with Thalia. Straight-As, no class skipping. A medium black coffee with two sugars, never tampered with for the sake of a pun. No insanity. No smothering smiles. No Percy.

They were the most miserable two weeks of my entire life.

On a random Tuesday, I forgot to restock my wallet. All I had was a five. Usually, this wouldn't be a problem, but as I pulled it out, I noticed it had a tiny little star in the corner.

And a heart.

Percy had drawn a star and a heart on my five dollar bill.

Thalia reached out to take it, but I didn't let go. It was my last Starbuck. My very last one. My very last shred of Percy. I didn't have his number, or his address, or his email, or his picture, but I had a five dollar bill with a drawing of a star on it. And a heart.

Thalia raised her eyebrows at me. I swallowed dryly. "I… I'd actually like to keep this."

"Alright," she said, looking absolutely bewildered. "You got a credit card?"

My stomach churned. In my two and a half years at _Camp Café,_ I'd never once used a credit card. Never. Cash only. It was _routine._

Letting go of the dollar bill meant holding onto my routine. It meant keeping things the way they were, it meant everything staying the way it always had been. It meant stability and comfort and predictability. It meant everything I had ever known.

But letting go of that dollar bill meant letting go of Percy. And somehow, that seemed a whole lot worse.

I reached into my wallet for my credit card.

… … …

I ran out of ice cream that night. I did all my shopping on Saturdays, a full four days from then. Did I really want to break any more tradition just because I was craving desert?

Except, who _cared?_ I was depressed. I needed Percy. I couldn't have him, but ice cream provided a nice alternative. Mint chip ice cream. Straight out of the carton while I watched cheesy rom-coms on the couch and cried because only movies had happy endings.

I grabbed my coat and made my way down the stairs.

It was only appropriate, of course, that my careless routine-breaking was what led me to the store. Where a careless routine-breaking seaweed brain was standing in the produce isle, frowning intently at two identical-looking cartons of blueberries, probably trying to determine which one was bluer.

He looked much better than he had when I'd last seen him four weeks ago. His pen was back in his hair. He was wearing a crisp green t-shirt and loose jeans and his underwater watch. But he also looked… kind of sad. Probably because the blueberries were more purple than blue. Poor Percy.

I was so surprised to see him that I accidentally knocked over a box of avocados, and he looked up at the noise. Suddenly I was all-too aware of my uncombed hair and the circles underneath my eyes and my baggy shirt and sweatpants. He didn't seem to mind too much, though, because he smiled cautiously and strode towards me to help me clean up the mess.

"Hey," he said, kneeling down next to me and picking up a few avocados. I kept staring at him. He looked _so good,_ and I'd missed him _so much,_ and here he was just being… casual.

"Where did you go?" I blurted out, then blushed. Talk about obvious.

"What do you mean?" he asked, still smiling, but it looked kind of frozen now. I swallowed hard.

"I… you disappeared."

"No, I didn't," he said, giving me a hard stare. "My friends could find me easily."

Ow. That hurt. Bad. I almost doubled over in pain. The meaning behind the statement – _I wasn't his friend_ – was maybe the harshest thing anyone had ever said to me.

"You didn't give me your number," I said weakly, hoping my voice didn't sound as shaky to him as it did to me.

"You didn't ask for it."

"I… I didn't think to. I thought you'd text me."

"Yeah, well," Percy said, gathering up the now-full box of avocados in his arms and handing it to me. "You thought wrong."

And then… it was just so _relieving._ Percy was mad at me. He was seriously mad at me! That doesn't sound like an accomplishment of any sort, I know, but now I knew it wasn't just in my head. Percy was truly mad at me. And now I could narrow it down and find out what was wrong and make him forgive me. My heart expanded in my chest.

"What did I do?" I asked him.

"Huh?"

"You're mad at me. Why are you mad at me?"

"I'm not mad at you," he said, but he averted his eyes from me in a way that let me know, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was mad at me.

"Percy –"

"Look, Annabeth, I'm sorry if I messed up your routine, okay? I wanted a new job. I got a new job. That's all there is to it."

"Then why didn't you text me?"

"Because I didn't want to."

"You didn't?"

"No, I didn't! Not if you didn't want me to!" He closed his eyes tightly, like he hadn't meant to say that. I frowned at him.

"I wanted you to text me."

"No, you didn't."

"Percy, I wanted you to text me."

"Why would you?" he snapped at me, suddenly looking pissed. I'd never seen Percy looked pissed before. It was equal parts unnerving and hot. "Since, you know, I'm so annoying and stupid and all."

"What?"

"I heard you telling Thalia you didn't like putting up with me! You were glad I was home sick!"

My heart rate slowed down. _That's_ all this was about? It was an easy fix. "I didn't mean that. I just didn't want Thalia to know I liked you. I have a reputation to keep as a grumpy-grumps, you know." Percy didn't smile.

"Yeah, believe me, I know," he mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Look, it's not really that, okay? I know I can be annoying and –"

"You're not, really." Because he wasn't.

"Whatever, I'm not mad about that. I just…" He pursed his lips. "I thought, you know. You liked me. Deep down. Somewhere in your soul."

"I did. I mean, I do."

"You don't have to be nice to me, Annabeth. I know you… I know you don't really. Like me, that is. I saw you."

"Me what?"

"You know. With Thalia." He closed his eyes again. "Laughing."

"Oh."

"I didn't… and then when you saw me, you got all scowly. I didn't realize you didn't like me. For real. At all. I thought… I dunno. That you were _always_ grumpy. That it had nothing to do with me. But then you smiled. For _Thalia!_ And I just… sorry. I didn't know you didn't like me. That I annoyed you. And… sorry."

Percy looked more awkward than I'd ever seen him. He turned to leave, his face bright red, but I grabbed his elbow.

I was a straight-A student, goddammit. How could I have been so _stupid?_ One thing was for sure, though – as dumb as I was, I wasn't dumb enough to let him walk away. Uh-uh. No way in hell.

"I kind of freaked out when you weren't there," I told him, tugging on his arm so that he was facing me. "I thought… I dunno. That you'd died or something. But then Thalia told me you were just sick, and I was really relieved. And stuff. I didn't realize you saw. I didn't realize… that it would come off like I didn't like you. Because I did. Do. A lot. I…" I looked up at the ceiling. It was too early for the L-word, definitely, right? I didn't want to move too fast and scare him off. "I missed you."

Percy gave me cautious stare. "But… you never smiled at me."

"Maybe your puns just weren't funny," I said, but he still looked uneasy, so I sucked it up and went for it.

"I thought if I did, you'd stop trying to make me laugh," I confessed, my cheeks flushing red. It sounded stupid when I said it aloud. Percy looked equal parts confused and happy.

"Why would I stop? I… I liked your smile. When I saw it. A lot. You… you have a nice smile. I would've kept trying for a reenactment."

"Well, how was I supposed to know that?"

"Um, because you're a self-proclaimed genius?"

"Well, you're not too bright yourself," I said, my face still heated with embarrassment. "You thought I didn't like you? I skipped class for you. And messed with my routine. And gave you my number."

Percy blushed, too. "I thought maybe it was easier for you to just not fight me. I can be… determined."

"Yeah, well, me too. I spent two weeks trying to find you."

"Really?"

"Yeah," I admitted, and noticed that the space between us was shrinking. Considerably. Physically. Emotionally, too, probably, but whatever. "I… I really did miss you. A lot."

"I missed you, too," he said, his lashes hooded over his eyes. He had very long eyelashes. Longer than mine, in fact. "My friends calling me stupid just didn't feel the same."

"Uhh," I responded intelligently, and then he kissed me.

I could go into a long, detailed explanation of what it felt like to kiss him. Of all the emotions and feelings and how warm he was and how he smelled like salty coffee. I could ramble on about how he held me close and I put my hands around his neck and how I briefly noticed the guy in the aisle next to ours staring at us, but only momentarily because Percy was _kissing_ me and I had much more important things on my mind. I could tell you how incredibly, impossibly perfect it was.

But instead, I'll just go with this: I was wrong. Percy was nothing like Folgers coffee. He didn't taste even kind of like dirt.

"There's something I've been meaning to tell you," Percy gasped when he finally pulled away, and his eyes were _so_ _green_ and just knew he was about to quietly whisper something meaningful and deep and enlightening and _real _and –

"I love you latte," he said, and I may or may not have laughed so hard that I knocked over another box of avocados and got us kicked out of the store.

**and then when they first slept together he was all 'pass the coffee and sugar coz u just made me cream my pants' and she broke up with him in horror**

**no but srsly this entire story is just a shrine to my love of puns, I s2g I didn't look a single one up, I either remembered it from a previous occasion or made it up myself  
**

**p.s. there are about 467 billion gravity falls references in here so see if you can catch them**


End file.
